


Dancing Cheek to Cheek

by wanderingscholarlad



Series: Love is Stored in the Bread [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Bread making, Insomnia, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Mentioned - Andy, Mentioned - Nile, Slow Dancing, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27186745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingscholarlad/pseuds/wanderingscholarlad
Summary: Joe wakes up alone. The pillow next to him is already cool to the touch. It’s still dark outside - the deep black that heralds an imminent dawn. He blinks awake slowly, unsure as to why Nicky is already up and gone from their bed at such an early hour. Stretching, he glances around. He isn’t terribly concerned, but he vastly prefers waking up to the sight of Nicky’s broad shoulders. Joe knows that Nicky would have woken him if something was properly wrong though, so he doesn’t rush through getting up.-Or, Nicky is up woefully early making bread and Joe would like to know why.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Love is Stored in the Bread [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984546
Comments: 21
Kudos: 256





	Dancing Cheek to Cheek

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookwormywriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormywriter/gifts).



> Is this just a reason to write about bread and shoehorn in references to the best jazz collaboration there ever was? Entirely.
> 
> For optimum experience, the album Nicky is listening to is "The Complete Ella and Louis on Verve" and the specific songs are: Summertime, Cheek to Cheek, I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm, and Tenderly.

Joe wakes up alone. The pillow next to him is already cool to the touch. It’s still dark outside - the deep black that heralds an imminent dawn. He blinks awake slowly, unsure as to why Nicky is already up and gone from their bed at such an early hour. Stretching, he glances around. He isn’t terribly concerned, but he vastly prefers waking up to the sight of Nicky’s broad shoulders. Joe knows that Nicky would have woken him if something was properly wrong though, so he doesn’t rush through getting up.

His hoodie is gone from where he’d dropped it next to the bed last night, Nicky’s sweatshirt left behind. Joe smiles lightly against the pillows and sits up, scooping up Nicky’s soft green sweatshirt as he does. He pulls it on, and steps into a fresh pair of sweatpants. He yawns widely, feeling his jaw crack, and scrubs a hand through his beard as he makes his way downstairs.

If Nicky is awake and up before Joe, he will inevitably be in one of two places. Either outside, letting the fresh air soothe away whatever chased him out of bed before the sun, or in the kitchen, working out his frustrations through the meditative process of cooking. It’s far too cold for Nicky to be outside in just Joe’s hoodie. Snow has been falling softly for the past few days and there’s a blanket of it covering the ground outside. The world feels oddly still, in spite of the movement Joe can see at each window he passes. Andy and Nile will still be sleeping for a few hours yet. Neither of them rises early if they can help it, and in this quiet little farmhouse several hours out of Vancouver, there’s nothing to prompt it. They’ve been revelling in the peace for a week already and they’re all feeling more settled with each passing day. 

As Joe approaches the kitchen, he begins to hear the soft strains of music and Nicky’s singing. It eases the tension from Joe’s shoulders. Nicky only sings when he’s truly relaxed. Whatever has him up this early can’t be too terrible. It sounds like he’s singing jazz of some kind, mellow and slow. Joe chuckles at the snippet he catches. It very much is not summertime, no matter what Ella Fitzgerald has to say about it.

Joe leans against the doorframe, considering the sight before him. The lights are on and the kitchen feels warm and cozy against the cold outside. Nicky has put on the heater and is standing at the counter in Joe’s hoodie and a pair of boxers. His shoulders move rhythmically under the soft fabric as he kneads dough against the floured bench, singing to himself. He’s singing half under his breath, clearly mindful that it’s still early but Joe can hear Nicky’s husky singing perfectly. Almost out of nowhere, Joe is transported through time, remembering waltzing with Nicky in an underground bar in the 60s, pressed cheek to cheek as a smokey jazz singer serenaded the crowd. He leans into the warmth of cherished memories and coughs lightly to get Nicky’s attention.

“Hayati, why are you not wearing pants?”

Nicky turns around and holds up his hands in self defence, “I’m warm enough.”

“It’s snowing.”

“I’m wearing a jumper - and two pairs of socks.”

“Two pairs of socks?” Joe walks across the short expanse of floor to stand just behind Nicky as he turns back to his bread.

Nicky nods, leaning back a little so his back is pressed against Joe’s chest, “I’m perfectly warm, especially when you hold me.”   
“I’m not holding you yet.” Joe’s smiling though, knows he will be holding Nicky in the next few moments. It’s impossible not to.

“You should fix that, hmm?”

“Should I?”

Nicky groans and reaches around to tug Joe’s wrist, until his arm is wrapped around Nicky’s waist. He caves and wraps both arms around Nicky, leaning his chin against his shoulder fondly.

Nicky tilts slightly, pressing a kiss to Joe’s cheek.   
“Better now?” Joe murmurs, squeezing a little.

‘So much - I’ve got my love to keep me warm.”

Joe watches quietly as Nicky goes back to kneading the bread, admiring Nicky’s steady hands and the practiced twist of his wrist as he folds the bread back on itself.

“What are you making, my Nicolo? What is worth being out of bed at this hour?”

“Just a sourdough loaf, nothing special.”   
“So not worth being awake this early?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh?”

Nicky just hums, and Joe presses his face against Nicky’s shoulder more. Sometimes Nicky doesn’t sleep so well, and that’s okay, he always manages to work through what has been bothering him. The rumble of Nicky’s singing starts up again, reverberating through his chest and into the palms of Joe’s hands, pressed against his sternum. Nicky shapes the dough into a neat ball and sets it closer to the oven to proof. He turns in Joe’s arms, hands held up careful so as to not get flour on Joe. 

“Done?”

“Mhmm, needs to proof for at least four hours now.”

“So it’ll be ready when Andy and Nile get up?”   
“Probably, maybe even before.”

Joe laughs and lets go of Nicky so that he can wash his hands and wipe the bench down. He turns up the speaker slightly, letting the music fill the room better and steps into an open space, holding out a hand for Nicky when he turns back around to face Joe. Nicky is drying his hands on a tea towel, which he quickly sets aside, stepping back into Joe’s orbit. Joe curls an arm around his waist and lets Nicky move them in time to the music. They sway gently in place until the vocals start, a melodic refrain, and then Nicky steps back slightly, pulling Joe with him. It’s not a fancy pattern of steps, just tracing the same small patch of floorboards but it’s them, and so it’s perfect. 

Joe isn’t sure how long they dance like that for, but soon enough the music peeters out and they’re just standing in the middle of the kitchen, bodies pressed close together and foreheads touching. Nicky’s eyes are closed and he looks so content. Joe pushes him lightly towards the kitchen table and sets about making coffee for the two of them. One cup so strong that a normal person would see God, and another more milk and sugar than coffee.

Nicky cradles the mug close, warming himself and beaming sleepily over at Joe who has sat down next to him. They press their shoulders together, more than happy to coexist in silence for the time being.   
“I still don’t understand how you drink that stuff, even after four hundred years of watching you drink it,” Nicky murmurs, smiling a little slyly. He knows that this will prompt an argument almost as old as they have been drinking coffee. 

“I don’t understand how you drink coffee like that,” Joe says with a pretend frown, eyes crinkling a little with the smile he’s fighting back. 

“Just because I don’t like it strong enough to burn off all my tastebuds.”   
“Ehhh, they grow back. You just need it with that much sugar because you aren’t sweet enough already.” Joe’s grinning in earnest now.   
“I’m not sweet enough already? Really? Why do you love me then?” That’s a low blow, Joe can never resist Nicky asking him to name the reasons why Joe loves him.   
“Hayati, that’s cheating.”   
“Why?” Nicky has adopted a perfectly angelic expression, only the tiniest twitch of his lips towards a smile belies how he clearly knows exactly what he’s done.

“I love you because, even though you ruin perfectly good coffee with milk and sugar, you always make the same silly jokes that make me smile and you know exactly what to say to poke at my heart. It beats just for you, my love. More than anything, I love you for how pleased you look right now.”

It’s true, Nicky looks wonderfully smug and when Joe kisses him tenderly, he tastes sweet. He tastes exactly like his coffee, which Joe would shudder to drink but has him pressing closer into Nicky now.

Nicky falls quiet for a while and then rests his head on Joe’s shoulder, “I was just thinking about Nile. It reminds me of what it was like, when we were also new.”

“Bad reminders or good ones?”

“Good mostly. It just hits sometimes. What’s that thing Nile keeps saying? Brain go brrrr? It feels like that.”   
“Your thoughts are too noisy to sleep?”   
“Yeah. I figured I may as well do something with myself, instead of lying awake thinking.”

“And now we’ll have fresh bread for breakfast,” Joe presses a kiss to the top of Nicky’s head, smiling slightly against his hair. 

“Fresh bread is always good.”

Joe hums in agreement and shifts to watch as Nicky yawns widely.

“There’s hours before you need to bake it yet. Come back to bed awhile, my love?”

Nicky nods, rubbing at his eyes with the cuff of his hoodie. Coffee has never once managed to actually wake Nicky up. He drinks it purely for the warmth and sweetness, equally content with a mug of tea or a hot chocolate in the mornings. 

Joe takes his hand and they pad back upstairs quietly, swaying into each other a little. Nicky crawls into bed first, not bothering to take off his hoodie, and reaches back for Joe.

“I’m coming.” 

Joe shrugs out of his sweatshirt and presses up behind Nicky, “Do you mind if I listen to a podcast while you sleep a while?”

“Not at all. Wake me in time to bake the bread?”

“Of course.” 

Joe fidgets a little, getting sorted and soon he’s listening to a podcast with Nicky fast asleep against his chest. He takes a slow deep breath and considers that this may have been an ideal morning. Soon, they’ll get up and Nicky will finish baking the bread and the smell of it baking will bring Andy and Nile to the kitchen. The four of them will sit around the breakfast table and share in the fruits of Nicky’s early morning efforts, and it will be almost perfect. All of them will be half watching the two empty chairs, and Nicky will have made the correct amount of bread for six instead of four. They’ll all pretend they haven’t noticed and focus their attention on being together and content. It’s all they can do. But Nicky will make that pleased little look Joe adores so much at everyone eating together, and the bread will be perfect, with a crisp crust and lightly steaming centre, and that will be enough.


End file.
